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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959075">Iris</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/altoinkblots/pseuds/altoinkblots'>altoinkblots</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood &amp; Manga</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>503 week, EdWin Week 2020, F/M, Flowers, Fluff, Post-Canon, Songfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:41:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959075</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/altoinkblots/pseuds/altoinkblots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It wasn’t like they didn’t know he was coming. He had exchanged dozens of letters with Winry—calling from Creta wasn’t an option, not with the long-distance rates—so her and Granny knew he was coming, just not when.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Six months after Ed’s kind-of proposal, he finds himself back in Resembool with Winry waiting for him, with irises in the fields, and a story between them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Iris</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It took three trains to get from Creta to Resembool. The first train took him out of the country, the second took him to Central (where there was a three-hour layover, so he decided to stop by Central Command and say hi to some people before his next train), and on the third train, after almost a week of travel, it pulled to a stop several miles from the Resembool train station to let a herd of sheep pass. Ed, being the only person in the compartment, poked his head out of the window, strong wind whipping his hair every which way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He groaned. It had been six months since he and Al had separated to try and figure out their new theory on equivalent exchange, six months since he had proposed to Winry. Sort of. And now, when he was so close, there was a herd of sheep crossing the tracks as they switched pastures for the winter. He sat back down in his seat. It was tempting to ask to be let off now. It would be a long walk back to the Rockbell’s from the train station anyway, and it was a nice autumn day aside from the strong wind. He bit his lip, thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t like they didn’t know he was coming. He had exchanged dozens of letters with Winry—calling from Creta wasn’t an option, not with the long-distance rates—so her and Granny knew he was coming, just not when. But there was a good chance that he might not even be let off of the train, even if he explained that he lived just up the hill. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He folded his arms, keeping an eye on the sheep. Better not. He’d wait it out, the muscles next to his automail port long stiffened from the week-long traveling. He pushed against it, trying to get some feeling back into the scar tissue, but it wouldn’t do much unless he could get up and move. And with sheep crossing the train tracks, that was going to take a long while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling out his alchemy notes, he started to read. He still wrote in code, masking his research as a travel long, an old habit from when he and Al had been trying to get their bodies back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed wondered how his little brother was doing in Xing. They hadn’t exchanged nearly as many letters because of the giant desert separating them, but from what he could tell Al was soaking up alkahestry like a sponge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He continued to read while the train remained stopped, making the occasional annotation. The more time passed, the more his stomach twisted itself into knots and he couldn’t focus so he put his notes aside. Unfortunately, he knew exactly why he was acting like this. He cringed as his last face-to-face conversation with Winry replayed in his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had talked about it, once the initial embarrassment on both ends had subsided. They were young, they weren’t ready for that next step yet, they would need to have a long conversation next time Ed came home. It wasn’t the conversation he was worried about, it was seeing her. How much would she have changed in six months? How much had he changed? How would she welcome him back, and would he be able to look her in the eyes without turning into a blubbering mess? He never truly knew when Winry was involved. She had a knack for being unpredictable. He smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A half-hour later, the train started moving again. The train’s back-and-forth movement rocked him in his seat, watching the countryside pass, ancient stone walls criss-crossing the landscape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon, sooner than he expected, the train slowed and the carriage attendant said that they’d be arriving in Resembool soon. Ed grabbed his bag and stood up, using the empty seats to steady himself as he walked to the doors. The attendant tried to engage him in smalltalk, but Ed only nodded, his eyes focused on the doors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The train pulled to a stop and the attendant opened the doors. Winry stood there on the platform, the wind whipping around her as she smiled and waved at him. She was wearing his old white jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome back,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed stepped off of the train, half-dropping his bag to the ground, and enveloped her in a giant hug. Her arms wrapped around his waist as he held her tighter. He didn’t realize how much he had missed Winry’s hugs in the six months he’d been gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We missed you,” she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. “General Mustang gave us a call when you stopped in Central, so we double-checked the train schedules and here we are.” She pulled away from him just enough so they could look into each other’s eyes but were still doing some sort of hug. “Don’t tell me. You wanted to walk in, completely catching us by surprise.” Her blue eyes danced with mirth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed smirked. “I was fine either way, but you definitely surprised me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry hooked her arm through his. He grabbed his bag, and together they started the long walk back to her home. It took Ed a while to get the muscles around his automail port working enough so he could walk without a limp, one of the many reasons he was glad Winry had shown up at the station. Yes, limping back to her home was fine, but he liked her there and she always knew when he needed to stretch the muscles out a little more. In some ways, she knew him better than he knew himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like asking you this is redundant, but how was your trip?” Winry asked after their third break. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed blinked at her. “Fine,” he said, rubbing at the scar tissue beneath his pants. “I think I’m good now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry hooked her arm through his again and they started on the dirt path, crosswinds knocking them into each other. “You’re as talkative as ever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that supposed to mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry grinned. “Nothing. It’s just good to have you back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed nudged her with his shoulder. “It’s good to be back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you proven your new theory on equivalent exchange right yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed rolled his eyes. “It’s only been six months, but I did learn some new alchemy tricks from some Cretan alchemists I ran into.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good to hear. Have you gotten anything from Al? He’s only sent us the occasional letter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably not more than what you guys’ve been getting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry nodded. “I heard some rumors about trade deals between Amestris and Xing. Mostly on Ling’s end, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Whenever Ling was involved, he was surprised by anything. Not after he willingly took a homunculus into his body. “Winry—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I tell you that some of my clients from Rush Valley are making their way up here?” She had, but he didn’t interrupt her. “It’s not a permanent thing, I expect to be back there within the next few weeks, but they needed tune-ups and they refused to go anywhere else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’ll be sleeping on the couch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry laughed. “I’m kidding. We set them up at the inn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Though I wouldn’t be surprised if you had given rooms to your patients,” Ed grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re my patient, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not exactly your average patient, Winry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked up at him. “No, you’re not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t say anything else as they walked along the road leading straight back to her house. Ed slowed as they walked by the ruins of his old house, crumbling stone and wood next to a proud oak tree. Something in his gut tugged him there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without a word, he started walking up the hill. Winry followed him, her arm still hooked through his. That day kept replaying through his mind. As if from the memory or after being truly walked on for the first time in a week, his automail port throbbed with a dull ache. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They made it to the top of the hill, and Ed stared at the ruins. “I came up here in the rain,” he said soft enough that the wind almost stole his voice. Winry still heard him. “I… heard something. So I dragged Granny up here in a storm to dig it up.” Ed had told this story to Winry before, but it needed repeating. She, too, stared at the burnt ruins. “I almost couldn’t do it… I almost passed out… Sometimes it doesn’t feel real, you know? I half expect to hear Al’s old armor clanking behind me, or for my right arm to be impervious to everyday wear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flexed his right hand, holding it up against the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry released his arm and knelt down in the center of the ruins, right next to a cluster of purple flowers. She waved him over, and he knelt down next to her. “See?” she said. “Irises.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re pretty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry dug her fingers into the earth, pulling one out and reached for his right hand. She put the stem into his palm, closing his fingers around it and holding them there with both of her hands. “And they grew here. Amid these ruins. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I want to grow something that’s more than eighty-five percent. With you. Someday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed pressed his forehead against Winry’s. “Me too. I don’t want my past mistakes to control everything I do, I don’t want to ruin everything I touch.” His stomach twisted itself into knots again. His free hand came to rest on Winry’s upper arm, letting the contact ground him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t ruin everything you touch. See? The flower is still there, and look at all of these other ones that are growing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s your hands that give life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yours give second chances.” Her fingers, still wrapped around his right hand, squeezed. “That iris wouldn’t have been able to grow here if you hadn’t done what you did, and I know I wouldn’t wish for anything else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t trade it for the world,” he whispered, images of his travels with Al flashing through his mind. No, he wouldn’t have changed a thing, and he’d do it all again in a heartbeat if given the chance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So here’s to the irises, flowers of hope and second chances.” One of Winry’s hands cupped his cheek, and he leaned into the touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed tucked her hair behind her ear and placed the iris so the petals hung next to her earrings. “Next time I come back, I’m going to clear all of this away and build a house right on top of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry snorted. “You? Building a house, all by yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed’s face flushed. “Well, I’d get help… but that’s only if you want to… I just thought you’d want to live close to your shop… Unless you want to live in Rush Valley. I’d follow you anywhere, you know that? Right? And this was my childhood home, and we grew up here, and what you said about me giving second chances—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can plant irises in the front yard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed choked on his words, his eyes bugging out. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry smiled and stood up. “I like it. Building our home here. But not right now. I still have a business in Rush Valley and you want to travel the world.” She held out her hand and Ed took it, using her weight against his to climb to his feet. “But when we both want to settle, let’s do it here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed nodded, not sure if his voice would work properly. The iris was still in her hair, even with the wind dancing around them making their hair fly around their heads. The blue-violet petals matched her eyes. Without thinking, without second-guessing himself, he bent down and kissed her cheek. Just once, and it was brief, but it made her face flush and he could have sworn he heard her squeak. “Okay,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry nodded, her face as red as his had been moments before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They turned and walked back down the hill, Ed holding his bag and their free hands intertwined. In the distance he saw a herd of sheep, probably the same herd that had crossed the train tracks. Their feet crunched on the dirt as they made their way back to Winry’s house. The crosswinds keept blowing them into each other, but they just laughed and made sure to walk even closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them did much talking, so it gave Ed time to think. The thought that he would have a house with Winry someday sent butterflies loose in his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry stopped once the house came into view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” asked Ed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her cheeks turned pink as she rose up on her tip-toes to peck his cheek. “There,” she said. “Now we’re even.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed’s face heated up as his mouth opened and closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry cleared her throat. “You did say equivalent exchange.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Six months ago! Before you said that you’d give…” It hit him like a sack of bricks. “You said your whole life. Did you mean that? Like, really mean it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry rolled her eyes with a smile on her face and nudged him with her shoulder. “Of course I did,” she said, her face still pink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, completely dumbstruck. Even now, it was simple things like that reminded him that she was absolutely amazing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry pulled him forward and into the house, where he was immediately ambushed by Granny and her pipe. He was shoved at the dining table, where the three of them sat for hours, talking and laughing and eating. Ed and Winry’s hands were never far from each other. What was the point of hiding it anyway? Granny knew full well what was going on between them. She had even encouraged it several times before Ed had left, seemingly to no avail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Several hours after the sun had set and they had made their way to the living room in front of a full fire, Granny left, making some excuse about her bones and lungs not being what they used to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what you get for smoking, you hag,” Ed called after her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just you wait until you get old, you half-pint shrimp.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed raised his chin. “Your trivial insults don’t bother me anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry snorted, curling her feet up next to her as she leaned into Ed’s side. He leveled a glare at her before turning his attention back to Granny. “Those things will kill you, you know,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll die of old age long before my lungs go out on me,” said the old woman before going up the stairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed rolled his eyes and shook his head. He propped his feet up on the coffee table, his flesh ankle crossing over his automail one. He could feel Winry’s breath on his hand and her heartbeat against his side. “I love traveling, but there’s something about having a place to rest my head once in a while. The fire doesn’t hurt, either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry snuggled closer to him. “Yeah,” she breathed. “Ed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we going to do? About, this, us, plans, promises. Everything.” She spun the iris between her fingers, the violet petals looking like a spinning top. He hadn’t noticed her take it out of her hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Travel. Build a house. Plant irises in the front yard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed felt Winry’s grin. “Obviously, but what about until then?” She put the iris down and grabbed his hand and started playing around with his fingers, something she used to do when he still had an automail arm. “Neither of us want to settle down just yet. I mean, this is nice, what we’re doing now, but we’re only eighteen. We have our whole lives, and while I do want to spend that with you, I have my automail and you have your alchemy. We both have things that we want to do, and they don’t necessarily involve each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed turned his head to press his lips against the top of her head. It wasn’t a kiss, not really. He wasn’t ready for anything besides cheek and possibly forehead kisses just yet. No, it was something to do, letting her know that he was there. To ground her, like she had done for him a million times before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see us doing this fifty years from now,” she continued. “Normally that’d scare me, the infinite unknown, but it’s you. You and Al have been my best friends since forever, and it only makes sense that I’d want to spend my entire life with you. I’m just not ready. Not yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed moved his head so his cheek was pressed up against Winry’s hair as she still played with his fingers. “If you think about it, we’ve already spent our lives together,” he said. “We were friends when we were little, you gave me an arm and a leg again, you stuck by Al and me when we were trying to get our bodies back…” He chuckled. “And here we are, saying we’re going to build a house with irises in the front yard and stare at fires together for fifty years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry continued to move his fingers around, choosing a specific one that she would rotate around for a while until she moved to the next one and rotated that one. Sometimes she would make the finger bend—not in an uncomfortable way, more like she was exploring how it moved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed inhaled, filling his lungs, before breathing out in a slow, steady stream. “Besides, I’m not ready for that either. It’s like you said, you have your automail and I have my alchemy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry nodded, moving to his wrist. “Do you remember that old Xerxian legend that you used to tell?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which one? There were a lot of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The one with the box.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed knew the one. “Where a woman gets a box and she’s told not to open it, but she does anyway and releases all of the sins of humanity?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Except hope,” Winry muttered. “She left that one inside. I’ve always wondered why, but I think I get it now. She needed something to hold onto, something to keep her going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Winry, if this is—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s not about you traveling or my automail. I think… I think it’s about the irises. How they grew where your old house once stood, where so much violence and loss took place. I think the woman left hope in the box as a promise to herself to keep going, to keep pushing forward. Almost as if she was reminding herself that, even though she released all of these horrors, she could keep going. That’s why she didn’t let it out. It was a reminder.” She turned to look him in the eye, the firelight dancing off of her features, sending flickering shadows across her face. “I’m going to hold you to this, Edward Elric. Someday we’re going to build a house with irises in the front up on that hill. To remind us of the promises we’ve made to each other, of why we did what we did and who we were doing it for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed’s heart swelled with pride, and he couldn’t hold back the corners of his mouth turning upward into a smile. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winry huffed and nestled herself deeper into his side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day, Ed went up to his old house and picked a couple of irises, putting them in between the pages of his alchemy notes.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was written for 2020’s 503 Week, day 1: Hope.</p><p>The iris flower means many things: wisdom, hope, trust, and valor. This was also inspired by “Iris” by the Goo-Goo Dolls; if you haven’t listened to that, I highly recommend it.</p><p>Don’t be afraid to leave comments/kudos; I don’t bite, I promise. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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